


Only For You

by pornbot2k16 (orphan_account)



Series: kinktober [6]
Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: D/s themes, F/M, Kinktober, Nail Polish, Nipple Clamps, butt plug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-08
Updated: 2016-10-08
Packaged: 2018-08-20 04:50:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8236654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/pornbot2k16
Summary: “Hold still,” Sarah reminded, voice calm but stern.  She didn’t bother looking up from the magazine she was looking through, flipping carefully through magazine pages with wet fingernails.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Days six and seven of kinktober!! Prompts- plugs and nipple clamps.
> 
> "But Edgar, you're a day late! Are you allowed to post two prompts in one story?" I am allowed to do whatever the fuck I want.
> 
> Is it weird that I feel like a total creeper writing this about Brendon and Sarah, but I don't feel like a creeper writing any other ship? It's probably weird. I sincerely hope they never run into this, which they won't, I'm sure, but still. Sarah would be disappointed in me. 
> 
> Whatever. Here you go. Here's your sin. I'm putting off writing a research project and my serious fic for this, and I'm doing this instead...... yikes.

Everytime Brendon shifted, the plug shifted with him, pressing against his walls and making him squirm more.  Making the plug move more.  You get the idea.  If he could stay still for a moment, he could almost forget he was wearing it, but then he’d move again, and then he’d feel it, and it was all downhill from there.

 

He normally didn’t have any trouble with the butt plug.  It wasn’t very big, and he’d even worn it in public under his clothes without any problem before.  It was generally comfortable.  He didn’t mind it. 

 

The thing he was having problems with was the nipple clamps.  This wasn’t the first time they’d used them, but it was the first time he’d worn them for more than twenty minutes.  Last time Sarah had tied him to the bed, worked him up, put the clamps on him, and then rode him.  She’d taken them off after they’d both gotten off, which hadn’t taken very long at all.  Now though, they were edging towards forty-five minutes.  They ached, and they made it feel like his skin was pulled tight, sending sharp zaps of pain through his skin if he moved the right way. 

 

Which was a problem, because he  _ couldn’t. stop. moving.  _

 

“Hold still,” Sarah reminded, voice calm but stern.  She didn’t bother looking up from the magazine she was looking through, flipping carefully through magazine pages with wet fingernails. 

 

They’d been making out that morning and she’d stretched him, catching him totally by surprise at first, but it’s not like he was ever opposed to fingering.  “You want to be good for me?” she’d asked, and yes.  Always. 

 

And just like that, Brendon found himself with a plug and nipple clamps, kneeling on their living room carpet while his wife painted her fingernails and watched Master Chef.  He’d tried speaking, but before he’d gotten more than one word out she’d snapped, “Quiet,” meaning she wanted to hear his safeword or nothing at all.  Brendon kept his mouth shut.  He didn’t want to safeword.  He wanted to see what this was working up to. 

 

“Does it hurt, baby?” she asked, catching Brendon by surprise and drawing him out of his thoughts.  He nodded.

 

“Yeah.. it.  Yeah.” 

 

“Good,” She murmured.  “Good hurt or bad hurt?” 

 

“Um…” he thought about it a moment and shifted again, making up his mind.  “Good.” Definitely good. 

 

“Hey, Sar-”

 

“Hush,” Sarah said, and Brendon snapped his mouth shut.  He let himself pout a bit though, because he’d been kneeling here for a long time, and while the carpet was soft enough that his knees didn’t hurt, the wait was starting to drive him crazy.  She turned and raised an eyebrow at him, and Brendon dropped the pout.

 

“C’mere,” she said, crooking a finger at him, then frowning at it and spreading another layer of nail polish on the nail.  Brendon went to stand up, but she interrupted him.  “Ah ah ah,” she said.  “Crawl.” 

 

Brendon crawled to her side and settled back again.  Sarah looked at him, expression concerned. 

 

“You okay, babe?” she asked.  Brendon closed his eyes and bumped his forehead against her knee.  She ran her fingers through his hair, humming quietly, and then tugged gently.  “C’mere.” 

 

Brendon followed her tugging and found himself settled on top of her, Sarah spread out underneath him on her back on the couch.  She wrapped her hand around the back of his neck and pulled him in for a kiss, and he went easily, catching his mouth in hers and letting her lead.  

 

As they made out, she pulled him down tighter against her.  It stung wherever his nipple clamps caught on her t-shirt and dragged, pulling at the sensitive flesh.  He whined into her mouth.  She dragged her nails down his back, and he moaned.  Laughing when her hand came up and cradled his face, nudging him back gently.  His skin felt sticky everywhere she touched him.

 

“You’re all messy,” she said, waving her messed up fingernails in front of his nose.  It smelled strongly of nail polish.  He nipped at them.  She laughed.  “I should make you repaint them for me.” 

 

“Gladly.” 

 

She smiled and kissed him again gently.  “You’re adorable,” she mumbled against his mouth. 

  
“Only for you.” 


End file.
